Solace
by ladycross
Summary: Angst.Oneshot.Sena's depressed and really hurt.he decides to hurt himself a little more to take away the pain...


_Tip…tap…tip…tap…tip…tap… _

The echoes of dripping water hitting the sink were the only sounds breaking the deafening silence.  
Yet another set of sounds disturbed the peaceful ambiance. It was the quick, light footsteps of a young brunette, making way towards the bathroom. The steps slowed down momentarily, accompanied by the creaking of a door and finally, the click of a lock.

Sena pressed his bare back against the cold hardness of the wall, feeling shivers run up his spine in contrast to his body's warmth. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling comfortable in the semi darkness of the bathroom, letting numerous thoughts float around in his head.  
He'd done it. He was in here, alone. His mom was in the other room in deep sleep, unaware of what her precious son was doing in the wee hours of the morning. Apparently, the neighbors too were oblivious.

He silently rejoiced in the knowledge that nobody would be able to interfere with him from tasting that bittersweet sensation he'd been longing for.  
Everything that had happened the past few months had been too much. It had been a dead weight he'd been carrying around in the pit of his stomach for so long; he just wanted to puke it all out.

The team lost, because of him. Mamori , becoming unconscious, in a hospital only god- knows- where, still because of him. And lastly, Hiruma…finding out Hiruma was dating somebody else aside from him. How could he have been so stupid to trust him so easily? How could he have believed every sweet word that was whispered so lovingly in his ear?

Sena cursed himself mentally. _"Stupid…careless…" _he fell right into that demon's trap. But then, Hiruma was the devil after all. It was only natural for him to be cunning, and devious and charming all at the same time.

It made him feel smaller, weaker…even more insecure than ever. He was sick, useless, and tired. He wanted to be free…

But alas, his previous attempts had been unsuccessful.  
Mamori had accidentally found out what he was up to and broke down in front of him so hard, it made him sorrier for her than for himself.

"_Darned women, always so emotional''. _

He promised her he wouldn't do it again…

A bitter smile slowly crept to his lips.

He was about to break that promise. It was all too much to bear. Besides, nobody cared for him, especially Hiruma. Even his mom was starting to neglect him because of her busy schedule.  
Sena admitted that he was being selfish, suddenly deciding to leave everything behind. But he had also been selfish to himself. He gave everything for football, and for the team. He ate less, slept less and even studied less. Not to mention that his social life had grown incredibly smaller since he became the running back of the Deimon DevilBats. He simply had no time for anything else.

His life was hell.

He observed the ghostly reflection of himself on the mirror that hung across the opposite end of the room.

"God, I look like hell".

Dark circles were under his eyes, making him look gaunt, and thinner than he already was. Every inch of his body ached from the hard practice that afternoon,  
And his legs were killing him. He could hardly even support his own weight at the moment.

Being Eyeshield 21 was a burden to him.

Sena gently slid himself down the wall, sitting himself on the cold, smooth surface which was the tiles that formed the bathroom floor; his head still rested against the wall; legs stretched out in front of him.

He had to do it now while everything was still and quiet. It would soon be morning, and he would have to face the horrible stuff all over again.

Practice… Mamori… Bullies…School… Hiruma.

He couldn't bring himself to see them anymore. It would be too painful.  
He brought his hands to his pockets and rummaged for the object that would be the true source of his happiness. Recognizing the thin shape and cool touch of metal, he pulled it out and watched it glint malevolently in the dark.

Salvation.

Sena held out a pale arm and touched his wrist, feeling the smooth skin and the throbbing sensation under it.

"_Goodbye cruel world"... _

He let out a small, nervous laugh.

Stupid thing to say really… but he didn't care. He liked the sound of it. It fitted the whole scenario he was in perfectly.

He took hold of the lethal piece of metal once again; positioning it vertically, at the center of his wrist. And with a trembling hand, he gingerly pressed.  
The skin under the blade instantly turned white from the pressure. Tiny surges of pain surfaced at once, yet he pressed even harder and started to move the blade downward, tearing his fragile skin open. Sena gasped sharply. Thick Crimson blood dripped automatically in its wake, staining his fair complexion. Sena winced, shaking more than ever; acid tears welled up in his eyes.  
He could feel the wound searing, white hot pain, emanating deep within the cut. His hand shook; His body wanted to pull away from the cruel object, but he continued the slow, agonizing pace of slicing his flesh vertically, spilling more amounts of blood unto the cold floor.  
He bit his lower lip hard.  
The pain was so intense, so overpowering that It left his mind reeling. It made him numb.  
And then, something occurred to him. This pain was…

…bliss…

It was draining him of his life, his strength. But it was also draining him of all the pain and suffering with each drop of blood wasted. It was enough to blot out all the bad memories…all the times when he suffered more than he could manage. Enough to erase the image of Mamori lying spread eagled on the floor, blood rapidly oozing from her head. Enough to make him forget how he was treated like a nobody since his life began.  
It was even enough to make him forget all the good ones too…the good times he and the team had, beaming with happiness with each victory, how the others encouraged him, stood by him when he was down, The enlightening feeling he would always have whenever he ran out on the field…. and...Hiruma...Hiruma's face...his touch, the way each evil grin had a different side, a kinder side that only few people knew about...only he knew about…

...Everything...

Several moments that seemed like hours had passed.

The blade dropped with a clatter from Sena's hand. His damaged wrist lay limp at his side. Red liquid was still seeping out from the fresh cut, spreading slowly, forming a sickening pool of blood on the tiled floor; soaking the pajamas of a now still Sena…

_Tip...tap…tip…tap…tip…tap…_

These were now, the only sounds disturbing the peaceful silence. Continuous drops of water, mimicked by the endless flow of blood from a pale figure seated on the bathroom floor of the Kobayakawa residence.


End file.
